All I Have
by TaintedBloodRose
Summary: The haunting question of do you love me replays in my head day in day out. Like a knife embedded in my heart. But the thing that makes it all the more painful, that drives the dagger deeper, is that I already know the answer, and continue to lie to myself. Tendershipping. BxR.


**I needed to write something to get my creative juices flowing and this was just the thing :) **

**I've wanted to write a one shot for the longest time, so I'm happy I finally accomplished that.**** Also my first attempt at angst so...**

**Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh, characters belong to the creator. **

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1:30 in the morning and you still aren't home.

How do I know?

I wait. I patiently wait for you like I do every night, in the confines of our bed.

I snort.

_Our_ bed.

What a happy thought.

Although I know that you don't see it the same way I do.

To you it's more like the backup bed you sleep in when aren't able to weasel your way into the bed of a rich young playboy or beautiful wealthy maiden.

The sheets are freezing cold over me. No warmth despite the fact that I have been bundled in them or hours now; lying on my side, staring at the bright red block numbers shining on the digital clock.

Lying and waiting for you to come home. Like a pet awaiting the presence of its master. Like the obedient pet I am.

Because that's what you turned me into.

Your pet.

I no longer have control over myself. But that was your plan all along wasn't it.

To break me so completely that I now thrive on your presence, on your love.

The only thing I ponder now, at 2:00 in the morning is if this was always your plan.

I still remember it all those years ago.. The first time we talked that is. So clear in my mind that it feels like it was just yesterday.

It was back in the confines of the plain white walls of Domino high school. The chemistry lab in the east Qing corridor, room 254 to be more specific. It was a Tuesday. We were working on creating and balancing equations, I was working on the 'carbon reacts with oxygen to form what?' question.

I remember the soft hushed whisper of your voice beside me, asking to borrow an eraser. I had never heard something so beautiful. I remember the gentle curve of your think pink lips and the innocent happy gleam in your large chocolate doe like eyes as I handed it to you. I had never seenanything so beautiful.

I fell in love with you right then and there. With that beautiful creature who made my heart flutter at a single glance, and blush at a single word.

You had me under your spell. But you knew that didn't you. After all it was only a month later when you confessed that my feelings of love were mutual.

It's now 2:30; the bright glaring light is burning my eyes. But I refuse to turn away.

We dated all through high school, I was on cloud nine during that time. The fact that I could hold your hand while walking down the halls and the fact that I could hold you in my eyes were enough to blind me with love. Maybe that's why I never noticed that you never held my hand as tight as I did yours, or the fact that you always stared at others while in my embrace.

You showered me with light kisses and promised words of love. All of which were enough to get me to follow you to your choice university.

You wanted to be a doctor.

I wanted to try art. You always said my artistic view of the world was one of the many, many things that you loved about me. That was enough to make me leave the entry form for one of the most prestigious art schools in the country blank and not hand it in on the official due date. That was enough to get me to study science and the human body to try and make it as a doctor. You loved me. It was all I needed.

It's still the only thing I need. The only thing I want.

But love wasn't enough to get me to pass all my tests. It wasn't enough to get me my diploma.

But you did, and I couldn't have been more proud. It was always about you, I see that now, and the sad part is.

It still is.

The graduation party was a blast. Although I wasn't invited as a student, I went to support you.

It was also the first time we made love.

I always wanted our first time to be special, to mean something to the both of us. I envisioned it as a night of romance, flower petals, scented candles, silk bed sheets. It was corny, yes, but I imagined a mind blowing experience that would let us compensate our love by enjoying each other slowly and pleasurably.

What it really was, was hard, quick and in a dark janitor closet near the gym where the dance was held. It wasn't the slow, careful, romantic scene I dreamt of, but that didn't make it any less pleasurable.

At least that's what I remember through hazy memories of that drunken night.

Your hands clawing at my clothing, hot mouth against my neck as you slurred words of love and encouragement.

Words of love always mean passion. It's something you taught me after all.

By then I was addicted.

Everything about you had me under your control and you worked that angle didn't you.

We did 'it' more frequently.

I was too blinded in pleasure to realise that you no longer held that loving tenderness in your eyes as we made love or that you completely stopped whispering those soft words of love and want.

You even stopped calling it 'making love' and resorted to calling it the regularly scheduled 'quick fuck' in the bathroom stall of your work.

Or maybe you never did those things; I was in too much of a daze to remember.

I was being paranoid, you assured me. You convinced me that still held those feelings for me; you said your opinion of me hadn't changed at all through our entire journey together.

You told me to stop accusing or else you would leave and that scared me. After all you said so yourself, I would be nothing without you.

We married a year later.

The wedding was small, strictly family.

It was then that I noticed that I had no friends to invite. They never liked you; they tried to convince me to leave you. I don't remember exactly what they said, it was all a blur, But you didn't like them so they had to go. After all I didn't want you to leave me.

After all you loved me.

We sealed it with the words of 'I do' and a kiss at the altar.

But now, as I reflect on our past at 3:00 in the morning, I begin to question things.

Do you love me? Those chilling words whisper hauntingly through my mind. Replaying constantly like a broken record.

They are like a knife piercing my heart. A sharp dagger embedded in the very depths of my soul.

But what pushes the dagger deeper, is the fact that I already figured out the answer a long time ago. I just keep painfully lying to myself in hope that I am wrong.

What am I to you?

A silly game of yours to pass the time. Do you purposely try to make it a game of shatter my soul by trying to find new ways of hurting me.

Are you testing my patience? Trying to see how long it is before I crack due to your lies and backstabbing.

Or do you find twisted sick pleasure in breaking me, joy in my pain? Stripping me down, tearing at me until there is nothing left. Do you find joy in the tears in my eyes when you wrap yourself in my arms smelling of another man? Does it excite you to hear my broken sobs in the middle of the night when I find fresh hickeys on your smooth beautifully pale neck?

You must love to break me; to bring the once _powerful_ Bakura Tozokuo to his knees.

Because that's what I was. _Powerful_. _Beautiful_. _Dominant_. _Envied_.

I had everything.

As you stumble into our shared flat at 5 o'clock in the morning; the fouls stench of rottenly, sweet, rich wine clinging to you like a cheap perfume. I chuckle bitterly to myself. The humourless sound sounds cruel and demoralizing in my own ears. A terrible simile, considering you are covered in a rank stench of cheap perfume. A perfume I never bought you, a perfume I know you don't own.

You fall into _our_ bed.

Ahh there it is again.

As you wrap your thin arms around my waist and nuzzle your face into my neck I finally realize the truth.. I realize what I've become.

Nothing. Because you took it all away.

But even now, as a lie in the cold bed, the warmth of your reluctant drugged, deadweight body pressing into my side, I can't find the strength in myself to leave you. I can't escape from your twisted clutches.

Because.

You're all I have left.

Even if you aren't mine at all.

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**My inspiration came from reading somewhere that abuse Tendershipping fics are cliches. I agreed so I decided to switch it up, making Ryou be the one to abuse Bakura, hope it worked out XD**

**Feedback greatly appreciated :)**


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